My devotion
by lapierredx01
Summary: What if it wasn't only Quasimodo? What if Frollo had another child that he took care of within the walls of the palace of justice? Isabelle grows up under the watchful eye of her uncle, Claude Frollo. How will she change the plot-line of the movie? Takes place before, during and after the movie. Quasi/OC (Sorry I'm really bad at summaries)


Prologue

It was a dark winter's night in Paris, the streets were completely silent and empty due to the impending storm. The Parisians had retired earlier that day, bolting their doors shut and locking the windows, perhaps trying to save their families from pneumonia and other deadly diseases that could be caused from the bone-chilling weather. Among the frost covered houses and the drifting snow, there stood a large building, its towers reached far past the roofs that surrounded it, its grandness rivaled the great Notre Dame cathedral itself; however it did not possess the same welcoming warmth of the church. The building had sharp arches and pointed edges, it was painted in shades of greys and blacks making it appear as though it had been cloaked in a shadow. This _building _was the Palace of Justice, its eeriness stood out across the black night sky; it towered over the homes of the Parisians, making them cower in comparison. Despite its grueling appearance, a familiar warm sound could be heard echoing within its walls, the wailing of a child.

The shrill annoying cries of the baby were all that could be heard throughout the palace's corridors. The staff that remained within the walls of the building were more than curious about the strange sound, but they dared not speak of it in fear of the wrath of the judge, minister Claude Frollo. Shockingly enough, he was now the infant's guardian. The child wasn't actually his, no; he preached himself far too holy to ever participate in such intimacy, the baby girl in fact belonged to his recently deceased sister. The judge couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse to simply discard the child, other than the fact that he already had a ward who he kept hidden in the bell tower of Notre Dame. The expense certainly wouldn't be an issue, he could very well provide for both of the children seeing as he was one of the richest men in all of Paris, but there was something about the responsibility of caring for the child that made his head reel with doubt. He was a very busy man and couldn't allow distractions to get in the way of his work, but for some reason or another he eventually agreed to become the guardian for his niece.

At the moment, the tiresome minister was in his study, he had large bags under his eyes that were more apparent than usual as they contrasted sharply with his pale wrinkly skin. His grey hair was falling every which way in disorder, as he was bent over his desk trying to finish up his paperwork. His study was a large room, there was a desk covered with papers on one side (where he was now sitting), several bookcases filled with French and Latin literature, a wide fireplace which was the only source of light in the otherwise pitch-black room, and a large dark metal crucifix that hung directly above it. He stared at it now with exhausted eyes, the child's incessant sobs were wracking his chest and he felt the protective need to check on her.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out an exasperated sigh and placed his chaperon upon his head before leaving his study and heading to the room across the hall. The closer he approached the room, the louder the babe's cries echoed through his skull. She was lying in a wooden crib and was draped in linen sheets. It was then that the minister realized that the child had no name, her mother had died while giving birth to her and therefor had left it up to the infant's new guardian to come up with a name.

Frollo stared at the child for a moment, her skin was pale with a pinkish tint, a patch of brown wavy tresses had already begun to sprout from her head, she had wide sapphire eyes, but given her age that could change over time. The judge felt somewhat calm while staring at the baby's face, for some unknown reason it relaxed him. This was when he had decided to name her Isabelle, which meant 'devoted to God'. If he was to care for this child then he wanted her to be raised as though she were his real daughter, he would teach her the ways of the church, right from wrong, how to avoid the vulgar scum that infiltrated the streets of Paris, and in return she would share his devotion to God.

_Isabelle._


End file.
